


Un-super Heroes

by Movie_Riggs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Chronologically speaking I have no idea when this takes place, F/M, Michelle makes good spaghetti don't tell me otherwise, Miles is the future Spider-Man, Peter wakes up and realizes MJ is the girl for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 02:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14415381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Movie_Riggs/pseuds/Movie_Riggs
Summary: Peter Parker, a curious person by nature, finds himself desperately needing to understand what Michelle Jones of all people is doing buying cheaply made Spider-Man merchandise on a Thursday after school.





	Un-super Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> I've had several experiences volunteering at after-school programs and getting to watch less fortunate/underprivileged kids play superheroes with one another, and let me tell you there is no sweeter experience. Anyway, that's sort of where this fic comes from; I feel as though that could be something MJ would secretly devote a lot of her time to outside of school.

 

Another school day over and done with. Peter bid goodbye to Ned and made his way as discreetly as possible out the side door of Midtown High. After spinning about on one foot to ensure no one was nearby, he vaulted over the fence, landing with perfect balance. His eyes were already turning upward as he walked eagerly through the streets of Queens, treating him to a view he would soon be seeing from much greater heights. "Thank God for skyscrapers," he would always think, grateful for the stress relief that swinging through the city always brought him. With his gaze caught on what was formerly Avengers Tower (soon to be the headquarters for an up-and-coming company called Oscorp), Peter nearly missed his favorite alley.

Perhaps it was strange to even have a favorite alley, but after changing in so many different locations over the years, Peter had come to find that this particular alley was the most convenient. There were significantly less puddles, only three windows, and he had never once come to retrieve his backpack only to discover it had been stolen. Peter casually looked over his shoulder before ducking into the alley. As he did, he glimpsed something which made him skid to a halt and turn around, momentarily forgetting about jumping out of his school clothes and into his superhero suit.

He gingerly peeked back around the corner, wondering if she had already seen him. From what he could tell, she had not.

Michelle Jones was walking on the opposite side the street, her own backpack slung over one shoulder and a lunchbox in her other hand. This would seem a rather ordinary description that could fit any of Peter's classmates, except that the lunchbox was notably colored bright red and blue. There was a time when Peter would have had to squint in order to see what was on the lunchbox--even with his glasses--but thanks to semi-recently heightened senses, he could clearly make out the crude recreation of Spider-Man himself on the box. The price tag (which Peter had to admit was ridiculous for such a cheaply made item) was still coiled about the handle, meaning Michelle had just bought the item, likely from the comic book store just down the block. Peter had been in the store once or twice before, as a boy begging his uncle to go see the latest Iron Man merchandise. Ever since Tony Stark's announcement and the subsequent arrival of the Avengers, the store had revived the old WWII-era Captain America comic series and also started creating fictional adventures for the world's other superheroes.

The question, though, was what was _Michelle_ of all people doing buying a child's lunchbox from said comic book store?

Peter was a rather curious person by nature; he was self-aware enough to understand this. And while Michelle had always been something of a mystery to...well, everyone...it was not till now that Peter found himself so curious that he simply could not resist following her. Normally, he would have chosen to do so as Spider-Man, not bumbling Peter Parker, but Michelle was already disappearing in the crowd. No time to shuffle into his suit. 

Peter kept his distance, his eyes never leaving the back of Michelle's curly-haired head. Granted, he had no idea what his end goal was. _Oh, hey, Michelle. Fancy seeing you here, right outside your own apartment_ (he could only assume that's where she was headed). _Me? Nothing. How about you? Big fan of Spidey, huh?_ He was pretty certain they had exchanged maybe fifty words within the last few days, and most of that was because of decathlon practice. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Michelle suddenly ducked quickly into an alley of her own, disappearing from his view. Peter frowned, not just because he knew this wasn't where Michelle lived (he wasn't obsessed with her, he just happened to notice when she would leave her apartment that was located only a block away from his), but also because that happened to be one of his least-favorite alleys. Lots of puddles, lots of windows, and he had lost three separate backpacks there.

Suddenly losing what little caution he had, Peter turned straight into the alley, only to feel an arm wrap around his neck and shove him against the wall. 

"You picked the wrong girl to stalk, creep!"

Peter was much stronger than the arm currently choking him, but the instinct to keep his identity secret was even stronger than the one to fight back, so he restrained himself. 

"Michelle!" he gagged, his voice cracking pathetically. "It's just me!"

There was a pause, as if she was taking a moment to recognize him, then the arm loosened and she spun him about. 

"Parker?! What the hell, dude? You just scared the shit out of me!" Michelle pushed him roughly. 

Peter winced in spite of the fact that it didn't hurt even a little bit. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"You know, most people who say that don't follow their classmates for two blocks while trying and failing to blend in with the crowd!"

"I wasn't following you!" Peter said instantly. "I was just..."

"You were just what?"

_That's what I'd like to know,_ Peter muttered inwardly. Aloud, he fumbled through a lame excuse. "I was...well, I saw you, and I was trying to catch up with you. That's all. Not, uh, not following. Not like that, at least. Uh...yeah."

Michelle's face relaxed from angry to rest at her trademark frown, which Peter knew to mean that she at least believed him. Even so, his heartbeat refused to slow down. Surely it was not because they were still in rather close quarters with one another despite her having released him from her choke-hold. 

"Okay," Michelle said. "Well, you've caught up with me. What do you want?"

Insert more stammering. "What I want?" Peter repeated dumbly. "Not much, I just...uh, I wanted, to, uh...see if you...were doing anything. Like, right now."

"Why would you care?"

"Well...I just thought that if you weren't, uh...doing anything, that is, that you might, uh, want to...hang. Out. Or something."

Disbelief was a rare if not nonexistent emotion for Michelle's eyes to display, but Peter could have sworn he saw it flash across her face for a brief moment, before she corrected herself and returned to her scowl.

"You want...to hang out?"

_Honestly, I don't know what is going on nor what I'm saying._ "Uh...yeah?"

An awkward silence settled on them for what felt like minutes but were really mere seconds. Michelle finally stepped back, putting space between them ( _like there should be_ , Peter told himself), and crossed her arms over her chest, one hand still gripping the cheap Spider-Man lunchbox.

"I got somewhere to be."

Peter gulped and nodded, hanging his head in disappointment (but refusing to question why he would be disappointed when he had only been using the offer as an excuse for trailing her the last fifteen minutes). "Ah. Right. Sure. No problem."

"You can come with, if you want."

Peter looked up in surprise. "Seriously?"

Michelle shrugged. "I don't care."

"Really? I mean, cool. Okay. Where, exactly?"

"Somewhere."

"Is that actually the name of the place?"

"Look, loser, you either come or you don't. Make up your mind."

Michelle turned on her heel and left the alley, marching briskly down the sidewalk to make up for lost time. Peter ran a hand across the back of his head habitually, leaving several hairs sticking up unevenly. He had technically talked himself out of the situation. She had left him in the alley. He ought to be stripping off his clothes right now and putting on his suit. There were bike thieves to catch and old ladies to help cross the street. Yes. Spider-Manning up was the right choice.

"Hey, Michelle! Wait up!"

Peter jogged out of the alley until he caught up to his classmate, shuffling clumsily beside her until his steps were in sync with hers. 

"It's MJ," she corrected without so much as a glance at him.

"Oh, right," Peter nodded. "Sorry. I keep forgetting that."

* * *

 

The place Michelle had invited him for reasons only she could fathom turned out to be her apartment. When Peter inquired if this was actually the somewhere she had had to be, Michelle simply replied, "What do you think?"

Peter did not know what to think and thus did not answer. Instead, he stood by awkwardly, moving his hands from his pockets to his hips to hanging by his sides and back to his pockets again. The Jones' apartment was not much bigger than his own, but it felt entirely alien. Not so different from Michelle herself in comparison to literally anybody Peter could think of. It was not that he hated this; on the contrary, he found her fascinating. However, being fascinated and retaining one's cool were two very different things. Peter felt his nerves beginning to boil. _What if she invites me to sit down? Should I take the chair or the couch? What if we both end up taking the couch and it's absolutely the weirdest thing ever? Oh God, what if we go to her_ room?! Then _what?_ He had never had a girl in his own room before, much less been in a girl's room himself. This was all a mistake.

"Dude! You awake?"

Peter snapped out of his thoughts to see Michelle had dropped her backpack on the floor and was now standing in the kitchen, retrieving food from the refrigerator. 

"Yeah," he said sheepishly.

Michelle waved him over. "Grab me a thermos while I heat this up."

Peter obeyed, digging through the cupboards till he found a suitable silver thermos. He watched as Michelle pulled the now-steaming bowl from the microwave and began moving the contents from the bowl to the thermos with a spoon. Peter leaned ever-so-slightly forward to get a whiff.

"Spaghetti?"

"Congratulations, Parker, you aren't blind."

"Smells good."

Michelle nodded, stating simply, "I make the best damn spaghetti."

Peter raised his brow. "Says who?"

"Says everybody. Here, try it."

Michelle scraped the bottom of the bowl, offering him the last spoonful. Peter blinked at it for a moment too long, and the girl gave him a look. 

"I hope you're not waiting for me to feed it to you, Parker. Take the spoon."

Peter hurriedly took it from her. As if the thought of her feeding it to him had even entered his mind. _As if_. He cautiously blew on it before eating it all at once, slurping up a stray noodle and leaving sauce on the corner of his mouth. A moment later and his taste buds virtually exploded.

"MJ! Thith ith the beth damn spaghetti I'fe ever had!" he said through bulging cheeks.

Michelle grinned proudly. "Told you so."

"How did you learn to make that?" Peter asked once he had swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Michelle shrugged. "I don't know, it's just the one thing I've always been able to cook. Guess it's my superpower." 

Peter proceeded to choke. Michelle looked up in half-noticeable alarm, but Peter held up his finger, coughed a moment, and then cleared his throat. 

"I'm fine," he excused. 

Michelle shook her head in a manner that suggested it was mostly to herself, tightening the lid on the thermos and placing it in the Spider-Man lunchbox. 

"Well, c'mon, the rest of this isn't for us," she said matter-of-factly, walking toward the door. Peter followed.

* * *

 

Their actual destination turned out to be a small park not far from Michelle's block. Peter thought about asking why they were here, but decided to stay silent and let himself find out by circumstance. Michelle began steering them in the direction of the park's gazebo. Before they got too close, she turned and handed the lunchbox to Peter.

"Hold this," she whispered, not bothering to explain further. 

No sooner had they arrived at the gazebo did a small boy with skin darker than Michelle's came running over with a wide, bubbly smile on his face. 

"EEMM-JAAAYY!" he cried happily.

What happened next would leave Peter dumbfounded for the remainder of the day. Michelle...introverted, moody, bookworm, flip-you-off-and-sketch-you-in-crisis Michelle...dropped down to her knees with her arms spread wide, welcoming the boy with a smile just as pure and genuine as his own. 

"MIIIILES!" she called, mimicking his voice. 

An embrace occurred which ended with Michelle falling backward, the boy wrapped in her arms with an iron grip. She rolled over so that Miles was on the ground and began tickling him and planting kisses on his cheeks and forehead as he giggled. When she finally relented and pretended to let Miles overpower her, he jumped up and clenched his fists. 

"Time to fight!" he challenged. 

"Fight?" Michelle pretended to gasp. "No, we've gotta do your homework!"

Miles groaned dramatically. "Nooo!"

"Yeeess!" Michelle insisted, rolling her eyes back at him in a way that seemed so much more light-hearted than the way Peter had seen her roll them before. 

Virtually speechless and trying to figure out how he had missed a benevolent outer space creature fall down to Earth and switch brains with his sort-of friend, Peter wordlessly followed Michelle and her protege to the nearest bench. Miles reached for his backpack (which was painfully smaller and in worse condition than Peter's) and produced an orange folder of elementary-level math homework. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, he sat in Michelle's lap and she leaned over him, guiding him through each problem but making sure he did the work on his own. Peter stared with his chin in both palms and mouth agape. 

"Who's that guy?" Miles finally asked, pointing unashamedly at Peter. 

"Oh, that's my friend Peter," Michelle said, and for a moment the bright-eyed, angelic look she had been giving the boy since they arrived fell on Peter, and he felt himself melting like chocolate in the summer sun. "In fact, I think he has something for you!"

Miles perked up curiously. "What is it?"

Peter exchanged a glance with Michelle. _It's what I think it is, right?_

_No, dipshit, it's something else._

So it _was_ what he thought it was, then. Peter lifted up the Spider-Man lunchbox, presenting it to Miles with a smile. 

"Uh, yeah, uh...here you go, buddy! That's from MJ."

If possible, Miles' face lit up moreso than before. "Whoa!" he gasped, taking the lunchbox with both hands. 

"Yeah, how cool is that?" Michelle nodded encouragingly. "I saw it and I thought of you."

Miles smiled at her thankfully, then turned to Peter with a serious look in his eyes. "Spider-Man is my favorite superhero."

Peter felt a barrage of emotions at once, most notably his heart soaring as the child unwittingly made his day. He tried to refrain from smiling too widely or turning too red in front of Michelle. "Oh, really?" he said. "I like Spider-Man, too."

"One day, I'm gonna _be_ Spider-Man!" Miles went on. "My suit is gonna be black, though."

"Is that right?" Peter chuckled. 

Miles displayed a crude crayon drawing he had doodled on the back of his homework at some point. "It's gonna look like this."

"That's cool," Peter said. "I like it."

Michelle unzipped the lunchbox for Miles and gave him the thermos and a plastic fork. "Got your dinner here, too, kid. Eat up."

"Yes!" Miles pumped his fists. "MJ makes the best damn spaghetti!"

A look of horror crossed Peter's face, and Michelle broke into laughter. "You've corrupted him!" Peter accused, aghast at the small boy's language.

Michelle waved it off. "Nonsense. He's becoming better every day. Reminds me of me. Besides, Miles knows we only say 'damn' when talking about spaghetti, right?"

Miles nodded in between bites. "Or when we trip and fall on the playground."

"No, no, that's just for me," Michelle said quickly, ducking her head in what Peter was pleading to not be embarrassment, because this day was just too weird already. But it seemed as though when Michelle let out one emotion, she let out them all. 

Once Miles had finished his meal, he was rushing to the playground with Michelle on his heels before Peter realized what was happening. 

"I'm Spider-Man!" he declared, attempting a cockeyed version of forming his hands to shoot webs and swinging from the monkey bars. 

While still overcome with everything, Peter was able to think straight well enough to play with the boy himself. All of a sudden, he was eight years old too, not a superhero but a child who looked up to them. "I'm Iron Man!" he called, swooping about and recreating repulsor blasts with his hands like he and Ned used to do as kids. 

"Well, I'm Loki and I've come to conquer you aaallll!" Michelle shouted.

Their imaginary battle somehow ended with Miles' Spider-Man defeating both Michelle's Loki and Peter's Iron Man (no matter how many times Peter insisted they were on the same team). Peter eventually relented, finding it in himself to go method and collapse onto the ground next to Michelle, who had done the same when she "died." Miles stood over them victoriously. 

A whistle blew and a man announced for the kids on the playground, Miles included, to gather their things for pickup time. Michelle and Peter walked the boy back to the gazebo, where parents were already arriving and leading children back to cars or down the street to apartments. 

"Who's coming to pick you up today, Miles?" Michelle inquired. "Mom or Uncle?"

"Uncle," said Miles, spotting said adult guardian as he shuffled tiredly over. 

"Hey-ya, kid," the man greeted, clapping Miles on the back in a one-handed hug. 

Peter's eyes widened and he had to remind himself that no one knew who he was if he didn't have his mask on, because Miles' uncle was Aaron-freaking-Davis. 

Aaron exchanged a word or two of chit-chat with Michelle, which proceeded to terrify Peter even more, because didn't she know he was a hardened criminal?! After asking after Miles' day and how his homework had been, the man bid Michelle goodbye and led Miles away. The small boy waved with a bittersweet smile. Michelle waved back until he was strapped into the backseat of his uncle's car, no longer visible. 

"That guy is a criminal," Peter whispered urgently to Michelle as the car drove away. 

Michelle gave him a look, but recognized that he was being sincere and explained, "Yeah, he got out of jail recently. Not the greatest of role models, but the kid's dad is a lot worse. He's still doing time. Left his wife and Miles on their own."

* * *

 

"So...do I get to know what that was?" Peter questioned as they strolled away from the park. Not only was Michelle a much different person than he initially thought, but out of nowhere she had chosen to let him in on this unknown part of her life. 

"Oh," Michelle murmured, having apparently been deep in thought. "It's an after-school program for less fortunate kids. It just started a while back, and it's non-profit, so until they can find a way to afford a building they're using the park. I'm Miles' sponsor. I get to help him with his homework and make sure he gets a good meal."

"And play with him a lot, too," Peter said pointedly. 

"Yeah, that too." Michelle nodded, making eye contact with him. "You know, no one's ever 'hung out' with me after school till now."

"Oh!" Peter said, straightening up. "I won't tell anyone! Your secret's safe with me!"

Michelle furrowed her brow. "Secret? It's not a secret, you weirdo. Just because I don't offer details about my personal life to everybody doesn't mean it's not there to know about. It's just...this whole friend thing is still kinda new to me, you know? You and Ned, you're good guys. That's why I chose to sit with you at lunch."

"You still sit, like, three seats away from us," Peter said. 

Michelle tossed her shoulders. "Yeah, well...you guys make it hard to focus on reading. And three seats away is closer than it was last year."

"I guess," Peter admitted. "But, you know, if you ever want to like, join in on our conversations...I'm just saying, you could save the reading for later."

He expected Michelle to offer a remark about how she 'didn't want to join in on their dorky Star Wars debates' or 'how dare he suggest she do something other than read with her free time?' but instead her expression remained open, even considerate. 

"Yeah, I guess I could do that," she said. "Maybe."

They had arrived back at her apartment, and because he had been doing it all day, Peter started following her to the door. Michelle whirled on him with her brow arched. 

"You know, it's time to go home now, Parker. Like, our individual homes."

Peter instantly corrected himself, stepping away from the door. "Yes! Right. Individual, uh, homes."

Without warning, Michelle suddenly leaned forward and ran her thumb across his face. Peter's breath caught in his throat. 

"You still had some spaghetti sauce on there," she told him, her voice soft. 

"Oh," was all Peter could manage.

Michelle offered him one last smile (he was still getting used to seeing those), and put one foot in the door. "See you tomorrow, tiger. Don't be late for practice."

"I won't!" Peter called after her, even though he knew that there was a fair chance he would be. Because, well, he was Peter Parker.

On his way home, Peter decided to change out of his clothes and into his suit and do a little Spider-Manning before the evening came to a close. As he swung through the city, taking in the view from higher heights than he had all day, his thoughts stayed on Michelle. She was not only fascinatingly mysterious, as it turned out, but some of the answers to her mysteries had been revealed to him today, and he liked what he found. People called him amazing, but he would venture to say that she was amazing in her own right. Maybe she didn't have superpowers, but she was a sweet and caring person who as a bonus made damn good spaghetti. She was also incredibly pretty. _And_ , Peter realized, _I have a huge freaking crush on Michelle Jones._


End file.
